Courage and Corsets
by Mycroft-mione
Summary: Dobby wants this job more than anything. But will he perform when it really counts?


Word Count: 920

Written for:

QLFC - **Player 1** **:** An _italicized_ word or phrase for emphasis AND a simile

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 **Courage and Corsets**

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Dobby slowed his steps as he caught sight of the building where he had been told to report. Witches and wizards swarmed around him on the sidewalk, but he stood still, eyes wide in amazement as he took in the sights and sounds of the establishment. Inside, it was dark, but Dobby's eyes caught sight of floating, glowing candles that created just enough sensual mood-lighting to set the scene.

He took one step forward, then another, and soon forum himself within the walls of Lucius' Elves, the most prestigious house-elf strip club in all of London.

It was time to show off what his mama gave him.

"Name?" a bored looking woman asked blandly, not bothering to look up from her clipboard to acknowledge him further.

"Dobby is … Dobby," Dobby said with a bow.

She glanced up briefly. "You can't wear that inside," she said, indicating his trench coat. Dobby nodded eagerly, large ears flapping, and quickly shrugged the material off his shoulders, allowing it to pool on the floor around his feet. "Good," she said with a nod, finally showing some interest in his appearance. Dobby was pleased he'd gone for the red corset after all.

She indicated him towards a line at the far end of the room, and he walked confidently over, the sound of his stilettos hitting the wooden floor reverberating loudly in the nervous quiet that filled the room.

Dobby pulled at his ears nervously as he waited for his turn. Though he was ready to show off, he was also quite scared. This was the first time after all, and he wanted to impress Lucius Malfoy. If he performed well, there was a chance he could get a regular job in the club. He needed that more than anything.

The line grew continually shorter as elves of all shapes and sizes were sent into rooms to greet their patrons. Dobby watched as a female elf sashayed away, wearing just a sequined crop top and tulle skirt - and she was hardly gone before another elf vanished as well. Suddenly, he wasn't sure that he even _wanted_ to advance into one of those dark rooms.

But more than anything else, he wanted to make a perfect first impression on the regular customers. If he did secure a position at the club, it would be important to have a good standing with the most desirable witches and wizards. And the only way to do this, Dobby knew, was to fulfill their every need and desire.

Dobby prided himself in his ability to do so.

He closed his eyes, tapped his toes a few times, and whispered to himself, "Dobby is experienced. Dobby will do fine."

A few nearby elves gave him surprised looks, but they quickly looked away, towards the front of the line. He was glad for the privacy. Sometimes, it seemed that he was only outgoing when he performed for a stranger - when he could be anonymous.

"Well?" barked a voice. Dobby jumped.

"I'm sorry, Dobby was mentally preparing himself," he apologized, scurrying to where the lady who had spoken was standing.

She narrowed her eyes, then relaxed them. "Well, hurry up. You're next!" She gestured towards a large arched door with a silvery veil covering the opening.

Dobby took a millisecond to prepare himself, then strode into the room, pushing the veil to the sides as he did.

While waiting in line, he had seen nothing but shadows behind the curtains and veils that separated the rooms, and now he could tell why. His room was lit by floating candles, little orbs of light that danced around the periphery like sparks shooting from a fire. And in the center was a human man, a wizard - someone he recognized instantly by the fluffy white beard that hung from his chin.

"Mr. Dumbledore, Sir!" Dobby exclaimed, then clasped his hands over his mouth. Every visitor to the club was supposed to be anonymous, yet he had almost exposed this most famous wizard's presence. "I am sorry; please forgive me."

"That's quite all right," said Dumbledore. "But now I must have your name, or else we would be unequal, would we not?" His eyes twinkled even in the near-darkness.

Dobby bowed his head. "Dobby, sir." But even in this most submissive pose, he felt a hint of pride, and stuck out his chest, laced tightly by the corset. He looked marvelous, and he had to show off.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "You're bold, for an elf. I like that." Staring at Dobby's body, his eyes moved up and down, finally resting on the red corset. "Are you planning to wear that all night?"

"Mr. Dumbledore's wish is my command," Dobby promised. With a sway of his hips, he bent down to remove his bright red stiletto heels. From behind him, he heard a mumble of satisfaction.

That's when he pulled the veil as tight as it would go, and turned back to Dumbledore with a broad grin on his face.

.oOo.

The next evening, Dobby entered Lucius' Elves with apprehension. He had no idea how the previous night's escapades had been received, as the patrons did not tip directly, or even mention future nights. But all of his fears were assuaged when the owner himself, Lucius Malfoy, strode towards him.

"I had my doubts," he said. "But it seems your first day- or _night_ , I should say- was a success."

Dobby froze. "You mean…"

"Yes, Dobby," Lucius replied, almost mocking the elf's excitement. "You're in."


End file.
